


Bittersweet Symphony

by merycula (thanksillpass)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/pseuds/merycula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>rule 63</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Atsushi’s not so uncommon complaint about his teeth hurting wasn’t immediately followed by a dramatic sigh or a request for Hiumuro to kiss them better, Tatsuya felt uneasy. He lifted his head up to see Murasakibara’s body tense and his usually half-lid eyes snapped open, covered with thin sheen of tears.

“Baby, you okay?” asked Himuro cautiously.

When Atsushi only shook his head slowly and cringed in pain, clutching his eyes shut, Tatsuya’s brain short-circuited and before he even knew it, he was waiting outside the nurse’s office, tapping his foot in impatience.

Suddenly, he heard a loud shriek and barged into to the room to see Murasakibara towering over a cowering woman with an angry scowl.

“Atsushi, what are you doing?!” he shouted, pulling him away from the nurse.

“The mean lady said I can’t eat sweets, I’m gonna crush her.”

The nurse yelped and Himuro sighed, urging Murasakibara outside. “I sincerely apologize, he’s incredibly childish,” he said to the woman with a placating smile before turning to his boyfriend. “Wait outside, I’ll be right back.”

Atsushi growled but complied, and Tatsuya asked the nurse to explain the situation.

“Seven cavities,” she stammered. “I only joked that he should lay off the sweets and this… this monster just… ”

Himuro clicked his tongue in annoyance; he did not appreciate strangers insulting Murasakibara, no matter the circumstances. “I understand that the dentist appointment is in order?”

The nurse only nodded shakily and Himuro thanked her before stepping outside. Atsushi was sitting  on a chair that seemed way smaller than Tatsuya remembered and looked at him defiantly as soon as he heard the door click shut.

“Muro-chin is gonna scold me for scaring the mean lady?” he mumbled.

Himuro really should. “No. She  _was_ mean. But she was also right. No more sweets.”

Atsushi’s eyes widened in horror but he didn’t say anything more – he simply nodded and took the hand Tatsuya offered.

* * *

Keeping Murasakibara Atsushi away from sweets was probably what it felt like to try and get past his defense on the court. Himuro felt like he couldn’t even sleep peacefully without worrying about Atsushi trying to disobey the dentist’s orders – he supposed it was a good thing they shared a dorm room.

Murasakibara tried everything – begging, lying, even  _intimidating_ – and Tatsuya found himself thinking he was a babysitter, not a boyfriend, more than he would have liked to. But he understood that Atsushi felt wronged, and before he knew what he was doing, he was hoarding all of his boyfriend’s favorite snacks that weren’t sweet. The sad truth was, Tatsuya couldn’t stand Murasakibara being miserable any more than Atsushi could stand losing.

“I hate Muro-chin,” whined Murasakibara as Himuro finally managed to pin him to the bed after another one of his petulant tantrums.

“You don’t mean that,” said Tatsuya, sprawling himself snug on the giant body beneath him.

“What if I did?” pressed Atsushi childishly.

“I’d be very sad,” said Himuro truthfully, smiling against his boyfriend’s chest. “Because I like you and I like that you like me.”

If he lifted his head now, Tatsuya would probably see a faint blush spreading on Murasakibara’s cheeks and wouldn’t be able to hold back a pleased chuckle. But he knew how Atsushi could easily throw him off so he needed to be careful not to upset him by embarrassing him. It was too nice to ruin – the rare moment when he felt more like a boyfriend than a babysitter – so he just lifted his hand to run his finger along the strong jaw above his head.

“Do your teeth still hurt?”

“Not really…”

Himuro smirked at the tension in Murasakibara’s voice and shuffled slightly to reach his jaw with his mouth and press a series of soft kisses along the line of it. Atsushi grumbled above him but craned his neck to give Tatsuya a better access nonetheless.

“I’m hungry,” he muttered.

Himuro rolled his eyes, grazing the skin of Atsushi’s chin with his teeth as a warning. “You just ate.”

“I’m hungry for something sweet. I guess I will have to eat Muro-chin…”

Tatsuya chuckled. “In a sexy way or a cannibalistic way?” he teased, lifting himself and hovering his face above Murasakibara’s.

“Dunno… Haven’t decided yet…”

Atsushi looked bored at first glance but Himuro knew better. He brushed the bangs from his forehead and kissed it briefly before straining his head to kiss the top of Atsushi’s. Unsurprisingly, he immediately felt his boyfriend’s lips on his neck and a hum of pleasure escaped him.

“Do I taste sweet?” he asked.

“No.”

Tatsuya rolled his eyes as Murasakibara contradicted his own words by sucking hungrily on his skin. He tensed involuntarily when he felt teeth sinking into his flesh and his fingers instinctively found their way into the silky strands of Atsushi’s hair, tightening reflexively.

“We’re getting dangerously close to the cannibalistic way of eating me here,” he joked shakily.

Murasakibara hummed. “Do you mind?”

Himuro shuddered as Atsushi’s mouth moved from his neck to the hinge of his jaw and he discovered with horror that no, he really didn’t. Murasakibara didn’t wait for an answer, however, and sunk his teeth into the lobe of Tatsuya’s ear.

"Shit," cursed Himuro in English and felt Murasakibara frown against his cheek.

He felt a wave of irrational panic wash over him as Atsushi gently pushed him off himself. "Muro-chin reminded me I have English homework."

Tatsuya gaped. The boyfriend in him wanted to promise Murasakibara he would do the homework for him as long as he kept going but his more reasonable and responsible inner babysitter turned out much stronger. He sighed and nodded, trying to hide his disappointment, as Atsushi pecked his lips before getting off the bed.

"This is not happening to me," he said to himself in English, running his hand down his face.

"Hm, what was that?"

"I said good luck with your homework, baby…"


	2. Chapter 2

Tatsuya wasn’t a one-track-minded basketball idiot, like Taiga for example. Of course, training as hard as he did, he had little time for anything other than basketball, but he needed a change of pace from time to time. He liked going out with friends and doing stuff that teenage boys enjoyed – parties, karaoke, movies, concerts, whatnot. The problem was, however, that he didn’t  _have_ any friends at the moment. He was moderately popular in school, but not in a fun and sociable way. Rather, he was considered unattainable and unapproachable; even his own teammates sometimes treated him as such.

In all honesty, Himuro had only Atsushi.

Atsushi, however, was less of a friend and more of a no-good husband – sure, he was happy to attend to all of Tatsuya’s needs but only as long as it didn’t involve moving from the bed. At first, Himuro didn’t mind in the slightest (Atsushi was as lovable as he was difficult, and all the slow, lazy moments spent in each other’s arms were comfortable and relaxing) but soon enough, he  _did_ start feeling like a bored, neglected wife.

“We never go out,” he complained one day, immediately realizing how ridiculous he sounded.

Atsushi flinched, as if he had been anticipating those words eventually at some point in their relationship. He slowly relaxed and looked at Tatsuya with a trained expression of disinterest. Himuro decided to press the issues, against his better judgment.

“Don’t you want to go out? See a movie for example?”

“We can watch a film here,” said Atsushi slowly, scratching his cheek lazily.

Tatsuya shrugged lightly, undeterred. “How about karaoke?”

“I don’t sing.”

“Shopping?”

“Don’t need anything.”

“A restaurant?”

“Not hungry.”

Himuro’s eyes widened in shock. Atsushi would always come up with some excuse to avoid doing something he didn’t want to do, but he never  _lied_ – not to him, at least, and definitely not about  _food_. Atsushi looked guilty, having been caught lying, and hunched his back to appear smaller. Tatsuya sighed and moved from the desk to sit on the bed next to him, reaching out to take his hand. Atsushi was being unusually difficult, angling away from him and avoiding his eyes, pouting like it was Himuro who was at fault here. He was clearly hiding something and Tatsuya didn’t like it at all – Atsushi was secretive enough as it was about pretty much everything else.

“You’re not being lazy, are you?” he asked, finally getting a hold of Atsushi’s hand and rubbing its palm with his thumb. “There’s something bothering you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” mumbled Atsushi into the crook of his own elbow.

“It matters to me.”

Atsushi bit his lip and frowned at some unspecific spot on the bed, still pointedly not meeting Himuro’s eyes. If Tatsuya was any less patient, a bit more impulsive, they’d never get along as well as they did. But no one knew better than him that good things had to be earned by hard work and nothing extraordinary came easily to ordinary people. Himuro Tatsuya was an ordinary person inside and out and Murasakibara Atsushi was anything but.

“I don’t-” started Atsushi eventually, “like it when Murochin is seen with me…”

Tatsuya frowned slightly in confusion, feeling his stomach drop. “You’re ashamed of me?”

“Stuuuupid” said Atsushi, rolling his eyes. “Do you not understand Japanese?”

“Well, my Japanese  _is_ a little rusty,” muttered Himuro with a pout, suddenly feeling silly.

“Murochin gets stared at and laughed at when people see us together. I don’t like it. ”

Tatsuya blinked slowly, lifting his eyes to meet Atsushi’s, who bore the piercing gaze for approximately three seconds before dropping his eyes with a soft grumble as his cheeks turned red. Honestly, sometimes Himuro had no idea what to do with Atsushi – he supposed it was a part of his charm, this childish determination to always expect the worst from people. Tatsuya didn’t mind as long as Atsushi had faith in  _him_. He got off the bed with a sigh and stood straight to tower over Atsushi as he rested his fists on his hips; like Alex used to do when she was planning to scold Taiga and him.

„Now who’s being silly?” he demanded. “Why would I care what some strangers think? Why would you? You should care about what I think. And I think we should go out.”

Atsushi stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment, before scowling and turning his head to the side in a defiant gesture. It was so endearingly predictable, Himuro had difficulties in holding back a chuckle. However, Atsushi’s usual laziness and petulance was much preferred over his groundless insecurities. It wasn’t that Tatsuya didn’t want to dispel them, because he did – he just didn’t know how, most of the time, considering how  _stubborn_ Atsushi was about his self-image.

“Don’t wanna,” huffed Atsushi, crossing his arms on his chest and darting his eyes to Himuro to gauge his reaction. “I’m tired, Murochin…”

Tasuya smiled mischievously. This, he could deal with. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rule 63

The thing Himuro loved absolutely the most right after basketball, was taking Murasakibara shopping.

There was nothing conventionally attractive about Atsushi – starting with her masculine name (her parents wanted another boy, apparently) and ending with her difficult personality. She was almost 1.90m tall with a lanky body that was awkward in its movements, her hair was always unkempt and often unwashed, she absolutely never smiled. When she didn’t look bored, she looked murderous – being constantly hungry and tired made her grumpy, which was easily reflected in her hard features and raspy voice. Murasakibara Atsushi was, stating simply, a very scary girl.

To Himuro, she was the most beautiful creature on the planet.

There was strength in Atsushi’s body that Himuro thought ought to be celebrated instead of hidden carefully under baggy clothes and hunched shoulders. But Japan was weird, and what filled her with awe, made other people flinch in fear, so Murasakibara covered her body to Himuro’s great dismay. Her school uniform was always complete with a loose sweater and black tights (lazy as she was, she only shaved before official games because Captain Chin-Gorilla threatened to eviscerate he if she wouldn’t), and her casual clothes looked like hand-downs from her older brother.

That was why Himuro loved taking Atsushi shopping.

Not that she had ever succeed in convincing her to buy anything she proposed, and not for the lack of trying. Unfortunately, she could only dream about dresses revealing the broad shoulders and strong thighs, and compromise with pants that actually clung to Murasakibara’s legs instead of hanging loosely from her hips. But the true benefit of the shopping escapades was the changing room. Himuro felt slightly lecherous, occasionally peeking through the curtains while Atsushi undressed, but the need to look was stronger than her sense of decency.

Himuro, being raised in America, never had much of that anyway.

When Murasakibara changed in the lockers before the practice, it was always hurried, secretive, ashamed. In a changing room, with faux feeling of privacy, Atsushi allowed herself to be lazy, slow, almost sensual, as she let the clothes slide off her skin. Himuro couldn’t take her eyes off the her. Sometimes, she would avert her eyes, sad and angry, when Murasakibara simply stared at her half-naked reflection in the mirror, seemingly disinterested but actually assessing the sight sternly. She wanted to worship Atsushi then, until the crease between her eyebrows would disappear.

Unfortunately, Himuro could never do that.

It was so unlike her to harbor an unrequited crush, so unlike her to allow a simple infatuation to grow and fester in her heart until she found herself loving Murasakibara more than she had ever thought possible. She knew Atsushi loved her too, in her own way, but not like that; not like she wanted to bury herself in Himuro and never, ever leave. Hopeless – that’s what it was, and yet much less hurtful than Himuro would have expected. Being with Murasakibara could never make her unhappy, no matter what, so Himuro was content with whatever Atsushi offered her.

“Murochin,” she heard. “I can’t zip it.”

Himuro frowned, trying to remember giving Murasakibara anything with a zipper to try on, her hand hesitantly hovering over the curtain, suddenly nervous to pull it open. Biting her lips, she waited for Atsuhi to deal with the zipper herself but an impatient sigh, followed by a petulant whine, convinced her it wouldn’t happen.

“Murochin, hurry.”

Himuro closed her eyes and took a deep breath before putting on a smile and barging into the changing room. Her knees almost gave out underneath her when she saw Murasakibara wearing a dress (the one Himuro picked for her the last time they went shopping – a frilly, flowery thing that brought up her eyes) and pouting childishly at her reflection.

“I look ridiculous,” she mumbled. “Like a clown.”

Himuro’s hands reached for the zipper almost automatically as she gaped at Atsushi’s reflection in amazement. When her fingers grazed the skin of Murasakibara’s back, they both shuddered slightly, leaving Himuro breathless. She brushed the hair off the back of her friend’s neck so it wouldn’t get caught up in the zipper, breathing over the slightly flushed skin.

“You look beautiful,” she managed.

Atsushi blushed and scowled, not an unusual combination when she was angry or embarrassed, and turned around to look at Himuro. “Murochin is so weird.”

“Am I now?” said Himuro with a light chuckle. “You’re the one buying a dress you said you hated.”

“But Murochin liked it. You said it looked… matched my eyes.”

Himuro nodded with a wide smile as Murasakibara’s scowl deepened. It always took her breath away, that Atsushi paid attention to her, to her words and opinions. She never seemed like she listened, always dozing off or munching on unhealthy snacks while pointedly ignoring Himuro, but she did listen and it was sort of amazing.  

“I did say that,” she admitted with a hum. “And you do look beautiful in it. But I don’t want you to buy it if you’re not going to wear it, you know.”

“I will. I will wear it. Tomorrow.”

Himuro swallowed and nodded stiffly. Sundays were the days Atsushi spent entirely in bed, so for her to dress up could only mean one thing – she had a date. Himuro was a bit of a drama queen, but never in front of Murasakibara; not since that one basketball match when she cried and slapped her. She smiled, her jaw stiff from frustration and helplessness, and feigned a noise of interest. Atsushi ducked her head to hide the blush on her cheeks but then she grabbed Himuro’s writs and locked her eyes with hers.

“To our date,” she said.

Himuro blinked, feeling her brain short-circuiting. “What?”

“Will you go on a date with me, Murochin?”

Himuro stared at her, unmoving, her eyes stinging with the need to blink. She hadn’t realized that she was crying when a tear rolled down her cheek, but only when Murasakibara wiped it awkwardly with her thumb and put it in her mouth, grimacing immediately.

“Salty.”

Himuro snorted unattractively – amused, dazed, elated – and grabbed Atsushi’s face, pulling it down to drink the dissatisfying taste off her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Tatsuya had always considered himself very good at taking care of people. His self-perception changed, however, when he met Murasakibara Atsushi.

Some people just didn’t want to be helped. Some people were simply unable to return kindness and anger was what they offered instead. Still, he could never really bring himself to abandon Atsushi, especially when he was hurting. Even if his pain always resulted in cruel and harsh words.

That’s who Murasakibara was – someone who childishly hurt others when he was hurt himself. He had no consideration for anybody’s feelings, not even Tatsuya’s.  _Especially_ Tatsuya’s. He spoiled him, allowed him to believe that no matter what Atsushi did to him, Himuro would never turn his back on him.

Murasakibara suddenly stirred and let out a soft whimper, causing Tatsuya to reach out and brush his hand against his forehead.

“Muro-chin?” he mumbled, surprised to find Himuro by his side.

They fought earlier that day, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep without checking on Atsushi. Despite his better judgment, he wanted to be there for him, absorb his pain, soothe him, make everything better.

“Shh,” cooed Himuro. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Atsushi didn’t reply, didn’t even nod. He didn’t have to – he took Tatsuya for granted because Tatsuya let him. He mumbled something under his breath after a while and Himuro smiled fondly, leaning in to listen.

“I hate Muro-chin,” he heard. “All your fault…”

He couldn’t help gritting his teeth. He considered it his own fault; for never disciplining Atsushi, for never teaching him better. He knew, rationally, that it wasn’t  _on him_  – that no matter how responsible for Atsushi he felt, he shouldn’t blame himself for every single flaw in his character.

Truth be told, Tatsuya wasn’t good at taking care of Murasakibara at all.

Himuro had a cool mind, but his heart was hot, and it was his heart that reacted to Atsushi. That’s why he was always kind, but also why he reacted impulsively. That’s why when Murasakibara swatted his hand away, growling at him, Tatsuya shoved at his shoulder angrily without a second thought.

“Fine,” he seethed, getting off the bed.

He could see Atsushi’s eyes widening slightly in surprise, but he still didn’t lift a finger to stop Himuro. Tatsuya scoffed; all he ever did was try – try and fail, usually. Now he was done trying to kill Atsushi with kindness. Now, he wanted to hurt him back.

“I’m going back to my room,” he stated, grabbing the door handle. “I hope you’ll stay constipated forever.”


	5. Chapter 5

Tatsuya was aware that he was gaping rather unattractively but there really wasn’t much he could do to help it. Literally the last thing he expected was Murasakibara Atsushi standing at his doorstep, wearing way to many scarves and a very annoyed expression. His face changed a bit, got even sharper around the edges, and his hair had grown longer. He hadn’t gotten taller,  _thank god_.

Himuro was a closeted romantic and he had imagined this moment many time. They had parted on terms that could only be called worse for wear; Atsushi was childishly offended by Himuro going back to America after graduation and hadn’t even bothered seeing him off at the airport. But Tatsuya always hoped something like this would happen – that Atsushi would simply  _show up_  one day, saying something ridiculous, like “I just wanted to see you.”

Atsushi’s cheeks were red as he scowled, but it might have been because of the freezing winter air that Atsushi was clearly unaccustomed to. Himuro wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat as the kept staring at each other, unmoving. Suddenly, Atsushi grumbled petulantly and nudged Tatsuya’s leg with his.

“Move, Muro-chin, it’s cold.”

Himuro grinned, stepping aside to let Atsushi in. That was fairly good, as far as romantic lines go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday, mukkun~

Murasakibara honestly didn’t understand. It was  _his_  birthday and, instead of visiting him in Akita, Himuro asked Atsushi to come to Tokyo for a few days. It was stupid and bothersome and he wouldn’t have had agreed if it didn’t give him a legitimate excuse to skip school. It had nothing to do with the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while because Murasakibara wasn’t a sap. He was mostly annoyed because Murochin didn’t even give him a present – just dragged him into some strange building without even stopping for celebratory ice cream.

“What are we doing here, Murochin?” he asked, giving voice to his impatience again. “What about dinner?”

Tatsuya shook his head, chuckling fondly. “I wanted to show you my new apartment first. Surprise, surprise~!”

Murasakibara clicked his tongue when Himuro opened to the door, gesturing for him to come in. He didn’t turn on the lights after closing the door, instead, wrapping his arms around Atsushi from behind and sighing against his back.

“I’m not a piece of meat, Murochin,” mumbled Murasakibara, glad his blush wasn’t visible in the darkness of the apartment. “I like to be wined and dined before-”

“SURPRISE!!!”

Atsushi startled when his words were interrupted by several loud shouts and lights turning on to reveal his middle school teammates and some of their high school friends. Murasakibara blinked, half in surprise, half to get used to the lighting – was indulging in this obnoxious American tradition Murochin’s idea? He didn’t look surprised but he did seem slightly reluctant and apologetic, so Atsushi decided to pin this one on Gamichin.

Before he could voice any complaints, though, he was swallowed by the crowd of people forcing hugs and back-pats on him. It wasn’t that terrible to see them again, off court, grinning and wishing him happy birthday, but it was so much _work_  to thank them all individually. Finally, his travesties were rewarded when Tatsuya directed his attention to the table full of presents. Atsushi eyed them suspiciously, concerned with how smug everyone seemed about it.

“They’re all cake~!” explained Momoi. “There’s one from Akashi-kun as well. He didn’t want to skip school…”

Murasakibara smirked and nodded in approval, which seemed to please everyone for some reason. Luckily, no one expected him to actually join the party and have fun like the rest of them, so Atsushi decided to grab a bag of chips for himself and lazily go through the boxes on the table – he liked all kinds of cake but he wanted to know where to start later. Realizing with confusion that there wasn’t one from Himuro, he went to look for him and collect his present. He found his boyfriend in the kitchen, already a bit tipsy.

“Everything alright, Atsushi?” asked Tatsuya, refilling the bowls with snacks. “You don’t want to wrap it up already, do you?”

Murasakibara shook his head benevolently – he didn’t mind if the others were having fun as long as no one bothered him too much. But he  _was_  bored with Murochin going around entertaining people other than him, and he said as much. Himuro chuckled, promising to take care of him as soon as he made sure everyone had everything they needed.

Atsushi waited patiently on the couch, and his friends kept coming and going, trying to engage him in meaningless conversation. It was less boring than he expected, it was almost  _fun_  (although that might have been the punch talking), but he wanted Murochin. It was Tatsuya he came all the way down from Akita to visit, it was him that Atsushi  _missed._

Finally, Himuro dropped in his lap – warm, happy, and smelling of fruity punch – and kissed him unceremoniously, making the other occupant of the couch flee in embarrassment. Murasakibara would grin into the kiss, because crushing Gamichin’s innocence by any means available always felt great, but it was their first kiss for months and he didn’t like how casual it was. He quickly pulled away, sending his boyfriend an accusatory look accompanied by a telling pout.

“What is it this time,” muttered Himuro with a sigh, scrambling off Atsushi. “I thought you were having a good time.”

Murasakibara scowled and turned his head to the side to hide his blush. He was, probably, a little bit, with certain people, but he definitely wouldn’t admit that. Besides, his good time wasn’t thanks to Murochin, who dragged him all the way across the country only to  _abandon_  him, and didn’t even offer him ten minutes of his time, let alone a birthday present.

“Did Murochin even miss me at all?” he mumbled with a scowl, crossing his arms on his chest. “You didn’t even get me anything.”

Himuro sighed in exasperation, rubbing his forehead. “I should have known better than to expect you to be patient… Of course I have a present for you, silly. And of course I  _missed_  you, how can you even ask that?”

Atsushi grumbled petulantly but didn’t resist when Tatsuya pried his arms off his chest and wriggled back into his lap. He squirmed weakly, making disgruntled noises as Himuro tried to settle in a comfortable position. He dropped his head on Murasakibara’s shoulder and fumbled with his pocket for a while longer, finally presenting Atsushi with a small key. Murasakibara blinked in confusion as he accepted the gift, and Tatsuya smiled at him warmly.

“It’s the key to this apartment,” he explained. “So you can come here after you graduate. If you want, I mean. Happy birthday, Atsushi.”

Murochin cleared his throat awkwardly and self-consciously avoided eye contact with Murasakibara. Atsushi was grateful for that, because he was completely at a loss for words, stunned into dumb silence and overwhelmed with emotions he didn’t have the energy to think about. Instinctively, he grabbed Himuro’s face and kissed him; slowly, hungrily,  _intently_  – just like he wanted to for  _months._

“Why didn’t you say sooner?” he demanded childishly when he pulled away, mildly annoyed with Murochin’s choices.

Tatsuya was panting, his cheeks flushed from the kiss. “ _That’s_  why. Because I missed you, I missed  _this_ , and I didn’t want to…  _do_  anything with everyone still here…”

Murasakibara knew he was blushing, which would be too embarrassing for comfort if he didn’t feel so desperate. He missed Murochin so much – more than he could ever admit, even to himself, and certainly more than he would ever be able to express with words. But he had to at least  _try._

“I missed you, Murochin,” he mumbled, dropping his eyes.

Because he couldn’t face him, he focused on their hands, joined in Himuro’s lap. He could hear Tatsuya swallow thickly, the fingers wrapped around Atsushi’s trembling slightly before they were wrung out and Murochin was getting off the couch. Murasakibara watched him with wide eyes, worried for a moment that he’s said something wrong after all. But Himuro just turned down the music, immediately getting everyone’s attention.

“Sorry, party’s over! At least for you~!”

Tatsuya laughed when the surprised silence was suddenly filled with knowing groans. People started gathering their things, fussing over being forced to leave, but still courteous enough to wish Atsushi happy birthday again. Only Gamichin left without a word, staring coldly at Murasakibara like it was his fault. Technically, it was, but Atsushi didn’t feel particularly guilty about it. Especially when Murochin finally sat back in his lap, grinning like a cat.

“So,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around Murasakibara’s neck. “Wined and dined you enough yet?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i completely forgot to cross post it it's so old

It didn’t take much to drag the reason behind Atsushi’s grumpiness out of him – if there was something he liked as much a eating, it was complaining. It turned out that his afternoon nap was interrupted by a group of gossiping students who, according to Atsushi, managed to talk about  _every_ boy in school in the span of only thirty minutes.

“Well, what did they say about me?” asked Tatsuya, not really curious about the opinion he had among girls, but more about Atsushi’s reaction.

Predictably, Murasakibara frowned and puffed out his cheeks. “Maybe they didn’t say anything.”

“You just said they talked about everyone. I’m everyone. What did they say about me?”

Atsushi squirmed, clearly uncomfortable and crossed his arms on his chest, stubbornly refusing to talk. Himuro sighed theatrically, lifting his hand to his forehead and carefully gouging Murasakibara’s reaction with the corner of his eye.

“I guess I will just have to ask them myself,” he said in a tone of a martyr.

Unsurprisingly, Atsushi grumbled childishly before finally muttering something under his breath. Tatsuya hummed, angling his head closer and asking him to repeat that.

Murasakibara blushed as his scowl deepened. “They said you were beautiful and that they watched our games only for you.”

“That’s very nice of them,” said Himuro, only a bit teasingly.

“No, it’s not,” snapped Atsushi. “It’s stupid. They should watch the games because we are good.”

Tatsuya couldn’t stop himself from smiling, not even if he tried. He loved it too much, how Atsushi slowly, gradually, changed his attitude to playing basketball. How he took pride in something more than not losing anymore – in being a part of the team.

It was a long and tedious process, Murasakibara still kept his infamous attitude, but it was a start. And Himuro didn’t have much time left until graduation, until going to university and leaving Yosen behind, but it wasn’t the end.


End file.
